


Questionable Authority

by Desbelleschoses, OnceAndAlwaysEnglishMajor



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-02-04 00:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12759132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desbelleschoses/pseuds/Desbelleschoses, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceAndAlwaysEnglishMajor/pseuds/OnceAndAlwaysEnglishMajor
Summary: Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru have taken on graduate positions as professors at their university. Between troublesome students, odd hours, and far too much work, the three have to navigate their new jobs and lives as graduate students. Their goal: keeping their jobs. College AU.





	1. First Day of Class

Jiraiya fumbled with the blaring alarm clock on his bedside table, trying to silence it without lifting his head from his pillow. His palm slapped the wood at random, seeking out the offensive sound. With a groan, he forced himself to sit up. He snatched the clock of his nightstand and flipped it over to pry open the back compartment. With a violent shake, the batteries clattered and rolled across the wooden floor. He sighed in relief and fell back against his mattress, carelessly tossing the chunk of plastic to the side. Just as he closed his eyes, the door to his bedroom flew open, casting an offensively bright light directly onto his face. In protest, he picked up his pillow and held it over his head, trying to get a moment’s peace.

“If I’m going to be on time, I have to leave in ten minutes,” he heard his roommate hiss. “I told you yesterday that Tsunade needs me to give her a ride. Ten minutes, Jiraiya, and I’m leaving, with or without you.”

Aggravated, Jiraiya pulled his pillow away and threw it at the door, missing by a wide margin and almost knocking his fishbowl off the top of his dresser. Thank God it had been empty for months. He locked eyes with Orochimaru, who was staring at him with an infuriatingly blank face. “Fine,” he groaned, realizing that his roommate had no plan to leave until he gave verbal confirmation.

“Nine minutes.” The door clicked shut, returning his room to darkness.

Nine minutes. Who does he think he is, anyway? Okay, what day was it? Monday. Definitely Monday. It was the first day of classes. Right. So, he had his fiction seminar. That wasn’t bad; it was his focus, after all. But there was something else, something important that was just out of his mind’s reach. 

Whatever it was, if he’d forgotten, it couldn’t be that important.

He pushed himself out of bed and trudged across the room to his closet. Orochimaru had told him that his new wardrobe made him look like a pompous ass, but he had to look the part. He couldn't just show up for his first day of grad school wearing what he did his senior year of undergrad. They’d laugh in his face for wearing a university t-shirt and checkered pyjama pants. Orochimaru had helped him piece together enough outfits for his first week, claiming that any impression Jiraiya made would reflect on him by proxy. 

As annoying as his roommate could be, at least he knew how to dress well. The grey button-down seemed a little excessive to Jiraiya, and he eyed the red tie that accompanied it with suspicion.  _ Really, Oro?  _ He was going to class, not giving a…

_ Oh, fuck _ .

His lecture. His  _ class _ . “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” He tried to pull on his pants as he hopped to the bathroom, giving his best effort to multitask. There wasn’t any time to do anything with his unmanageably long, white hair. Wait. He could do the… what did Tsunade call it? He started to gather his hair into a ponytail as he wracked his brain. Guy-something? Dude-bun? Man-bun! Yeah! That thing. Apparently, the ladies were into that right now. If only he didn’t have  _ so much fucking hair _ . Swearing that he would shave it off, he twisted it until he could tie it off, getting somewhere close to the look he’d seen some of the vegan, tye-dye hippie freshmen sporting. 

“Five minutes!” he heard Orochimaru call through his bedroom door. 

“I  _ know _ !” he growled, shoving his toothbrush into his mouth as he tucked his shirt into his pants with his free hand. Around his toothbrush, he mumbled a string of expletives that would make Tsunade’s grandfather faint. He didn’t have time for this, dammit!

Taking nowhere near the appropriate time to thoroughly clean his teeth, he spat and rinsed out the sink. He gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror before rushing back into his bedroom. He threw his backpack over one shoulder, and in one hand he snatched both the tie and his briefcase. Before he left the room, he slipped back into his bathroom to spray on his cologne, not wanting to smell like a swamp in front of his students.

“Two-”

“I’m here,” Jiraiya interrupted Orochimaru’s infernal countdown. “Let’s go.” 

“Shoes.” Orochimaru quirked an eyebrow when Jiraiya stopped in his tracks. “You’re not wearing any shoes.”

“Shit!” he spat, wrestling his bedroom door open long enough to grab his socks and shoes. He rushed out the front door, shouting “I’ll put them on in the car!”

Orochimaru dug the keys to their house out of his pocket and locked the door behind them. Well, at least he was on time. With a click, the car doors unlocked electronically, and his overzealous roommate threw himself into the passenger’s seat, backpack and all. Orochimaru took the time to put his things in the trunk before climbing into the car. “Seatbelt,” he reminded his companion.

“Just give me a damned minute. Let me get my shoes on. Just go ahead.” Jiraiya was tugging his ridiculously vibrant, geometric dress socks up over his ankles.

“ _ Seatbelt _ .”

“Okay,  _ Mom _ .” The belt clicked into place, and, satisfied, Orochimaru started the car and pulled out of their driveway. “Why do we need to get Tsunade, anyway?”

“Her transmission died.”

“Can’t she just get a new one?”

“They’re expensive, and she’s so far in debt that not even Kakuzu will give her a loan.”

Jiraiya let out a low whistle as he fastened his shoelaces. “That’s bad.”

Orochimaru glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, unable to stay silent any longer. “What is that  _ ridiculous _ thing you’ve done with your hair?”

“It’s a man-bun,” Jiraiya informed him proudly, grinning as he pointed to his head. “Tsuna says the ladies are really into guys with long hair. You should wear yours like this, sometime, Oro.”

The driver snorted in disdain. “No, thank you. It makes you look like a coffee shop ‘writer,’” he put air quotes around the word with one hand, which he momentarily took off the steering wheel, “who spends his money on overpriced pot and then can’t afford to eat.”

“That’s an incredibly specific, apt description.”

Unwilling to take his eyes off the road, Orochimaru let his tone of voice do the threatening for him. “I swear to God, if I find out from Zetsu that you gave him your rent money…”

“Come on,” Jiraiya groaned. “Have a little faith in me, okay? I’ll be good. I promise.”

He’d heard that one too many times to put any stock into his words. Orochimaru sighed in response, praying to whatever higher power may be that he would make it through the semester without killing his roommate. A left turn took them into an apartment complex, where they were momentarily stopped by an electronic gate. He rolled down his window and punched in a code, smacking the box on the side before the gate lifted up and out of the way for them. He left the window down, calling out of it when he stopped in front of the office building. “Tsuna!”

Tsunade looked up from her phone, realizing that they’d finally arrived. She crossed the street and knocked on the trunk of the car, which popped open with the push of a button. Her bags joined Orochimaru’s, and she slid into the back, taking the middle seat so that she could see both Jiraiya and Orochimaru. She clapped Orochimaru on the shoulder. “Thanks again, Oro. You’re the best.”

Orochimaru hummed his response, not wanting to seem overly proud by agreeing with her. He made a loop around one of the buildings and exited the complex, turning back onto the main road. “Is there a reason you’re in scrubs?” he asked,trying to make conversation.

“Yeah. We’re jumping right in with Anatomy and Physiology. Don’t worry; I packed a change of clothes to change into before I teach. I don’t want to go in reeking of formaldehyde.”

“Yeah, nothing like the smell of preserved, dead shit to win over the class,” Jiraiya joked, earning him a slap on the arm.

“What the hell did you do to your head?” Tsunade demanded, poking at his hair. Orochimaru bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Offended, both of Jiraiya’s hands went to touch his hair. “It’s a man-bun. Remember? You said I’d look good in one?”

“Was I  _ drunk _ ?” she joked. Seeing the look on Jiraiya’s face, she added, “No, it looks good, I promise.”

“Liar,” he accused, and she didn’t correct him. He didn’t have anyone to blame but himself, and he knew it. Oh, well, maybe the freshmen would think he was cool because of it.  Not that having a bunch of eighteen-year-olds thinking he’s cool would do him much good, but it might win him a few points in the classroom. He turned around in his seat to look at Tsunade when he asked, “Why don’t you just ask your Gramps for the money to fix your car?”

She rolled her eyes, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “I don’t want him knowing about my ‘habit.’ He can’t keep a secret to save his life, and Grandma’d beat my ass into next week if she found out I caught the ‘gambling bug’ from him.” When Jiraiya looked at her in disbelief, she clarified, “That’s what she calls it.”

Jiraiya had met Mito once, when he attended Tsunade’s Thanksgiving dinner his sophomore year. The red-headed woman was clearly the matriarch of the family, keeping her husband in line with as little as a glare. She was terrifying, and Jiraiya said ‘Ma’am’ more times that one night than he had in his life up until that point. He wouldn’t be caught dead on the wrong side of her wrath. “Makes sense.”

“If it’s a problem, I can chip in for gas,” she offered, looking to Orochimaru.

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand before pulling into the parking lot. “You’ve covered us, before. And you’re on our way.”

Tsunade leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek. “Thanks.”

“Hey, what about me?” Jiraiya demanded, obviously pouting.

“Not a chance in hell, Man-bun,” she snickered. Before he could complain, she slipped out of the parked car and joined Orochimaru around back at the trunk. The pair took their bags from the car, and Jiraiya wasn’t far behind. “Okay,” she changed the conversation, using her serious tone of voice. “What’s the schedule?”

“It’s eleven, now,” Orochimaru informed her, looking at his wristwatch. “I’m going to the Dean’s office, then I teach Intro to Biology at noon. All in all, I should be done by four, class included.”

“I have class in fifteen,” Tsunade gnawed her bottom lip as she thought, looking at the tree overhead. “Then, I teach at two. An hour and a half… so, three-thirty for me.”

“Same, here,” Jiraiya agreed. “Class, then teaching at two, I mean.”

“So, we meet back here at four? Three-thirty at the earliest?” Orochimaru suggested.

“Sounds good to me.” Jiraiya set his briefcase down and popped his collar so that he could tie his tie, which he’d completely forgotten about on the ride over. Tsunade watched him struggle for a solid minute before taking over for him, completing the task in just a few seconds. Wishing one-another luck, the trio parted ways, hurrying off to their respective schools.

 

* * *

 

The way that the classroom went deathly silent when Jiraiya entered sent a shiver down his spine. Roughly twenty sets of eyes were fixed on him, judging and assessing him. There was only one word for it: creepy. He could hear his own footsteps as he crossed the front of the room, and he pulled a stack of papers out of his briefcase when he reached his desk. He coughed once, trying to break the silence, but the sound only echoed back at him.

He approached a student on the first row and handed him the stack of papers. “Take one and pass it,” he instructed, his voice sounding foreign. Trying not to look awkward, he stepped up to the board and wrote his name. “Welcome to Intro to Creative Writing. I’m Jiraiya, and I’ll be your instructor this semester. I’m a grad student, so no ‘Doctor,” no ‘Mister.’ Okay?”

Apparently the question seemed rhetorical, because he wasn’t given any response. “I’m not going to go over the syllabus with you. If you’re in a class to write, I assume you can read.” He laughed lightly at his own joke, and he was the only one. Oh, God, he was dying up here, wasn’t he? Was Tsunade having this much trouble right now? “So, don’t worry, we’re not going to go around the room and introduce ourselves. I’ll give you guys ten minutes to ask me whatever you want about me, get it out of your system, then we can move on to the class. Sound good?”  
A relatively boring-looking blonde guy in the middle of the room raised his hand, and Jiraiya pointed at him. “Is your hair naturally white? Do you dye it, or are you, like, really old with a lot of plastic surgery?”

Jiraiya quirked an eyebrow, resisting the urge to shake his head. “It’s always been white, and I’m twenty-four. Trust me, this is all natural.” He gestured at himself with a grin, finally earning a bout of laughter from his students. That was good, right? It didn’t sound forced to him. They hadn’t laughed earlier, but they would have if they felt obligated, wouldn’t they? To his surprise, a few more hands went up around the room. Apparently the blonde kid broke the tension.

“Uh, you.” Jiraiya pointed at a girl with black hair who sat in the far back corner. 

“Are you qualified to teach?” she asked with obvious skepticism.

“According to President Senju, I am.” 

“So, are man-buns professional now, or…?”

“Not a damned clue.”

“Wait, we can swear in here?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“What made you decide to be a graduate professor?”

“I need to eat, and my roommate’s plan on how to get me to pay rent was much less appealing.”

“Are you single?”

This was the first question that gave him pause. “Um….” This  _ definitely _ was against his contract with the school. Torn between his job and wanting his students to like him, he settled for a single-syllable answer. “Yes.” He coughed into his hand, fumbling to change the subject from his relatively non-existent romantic life to the subject he was supposed to teach. “Okay, can anyone tell me the basic components of plot?”

* * *

 

 

Tsunade breathed in the scent of coffee and books as she stood in line for a much needed dose of caffeine. She usually didn’t pay much attention to the chatter of the students scattered around the coffee shop, but Jiraiya’s name caught her attention. 

“No, Kurenai, you don’t understand, this guy was  _ gorgeous. _ Like, no one who’s teaching should be that hot. Here, I took a picture of him while he wasn’t looking.”

“You know that’s called being a creeper, right Anko?” 

“LIke you wouldn’t have. Just look at him.”

“That's your teacher? Hot damn.”

“Right? Told you he was gorgeous. I’d hit that.”

“You’d do better to hit the books,” her friend scolded. 

“If I hit that maybe I wouldn’t have to!” The first girl laughed. Tsunade gritted her teeth. Apparently Jiraiya had made some sort of an impression on his class. Some logical part of Tsunade knew that she shouldn’t be bothered by their chatter, but it really pissed her off. Didn’t they have any respect for Jiraiya? It had only been one day! What could he possibly have done? Other than looking like… What did that girl say? A modern gift from the Greek gods? What did that even mean? Tsunade snorted as she mixed two creamers and one sugar into her coffee. Whatever intro to art history class they were taking was obviously failing them. And they seemed to think Jiraiya was this super cool character, when really he was the world’s biggest dweeb. Served them right for treating him like eye candy. Hopefully they would write something other than glowing descriptions of Jiraiya’s physique for their damn creative writing class. Tsunade moved away from the crowded cafe, determined to find a quiet spot to study until it was time to meet Orochimaru. 

 

“So you seem to have made an impression on your students, Jiraiya, ” Tsunade said, sliding into her seat in the middle. 

“I did?” Jiraiya asked, shifting slightly to look at her. “How do you know? Really, I felt like the whole class was awkward as hell.” 

“Don’t worry, they weren’t listening to what you were saying.” Jiraiya’s face fell. 

“They weren’t?” 

“Well, not this particular girl,” Tsunade amended. “She was too busy taking stalker pictures of you to show her friends later.” Jiraiya winced. 

“Lovely. What did she look like?” He asked.

“Jiraiya, no!” Tsunade hissed. “You had better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking! You’d lose your job! It’s practically illegal! And illegal harmless-illegal like some of the things we’ve done, or Oro’s weed brownies, this could totally ruin your life!” 

“What are you talking about?” Jiraiya asked, frowning in confusion.

“Promise me, Jiraiya, promise me that you will not date a student, or sleep with a student, or do anything with a student!” 

“Oh my god, Tsunade, you’re more of a pervert than I am! I didn’t want to know what she looked like so I could hit on her! They’re babies! Barely 18, most of them. Oh my god. I don’t want to give her any ammunition, got it?” He dragged a hand down his face in frustration. 

“Is that really what you think about me?” He asked. Tsunade had the grace to look ashamed. 

“No,” she said, refusing to look at Jiraiya. “ I just got mad, then worried, and took it out on you.” 

“It’s all right,” he said, “I can handle it.” 

“If you’re quite done,” Orochimaru said, “can we please remember the rule about not yelling in my car?” 

“Sorry, Oro,” Tsunade said. “It won’t happen again.” 

“That is a bold-faced lie, but thank you,” Orochimaru said. “This is your stop.” They watched until Tsunade made it to her apartment, then Orochimaru put the car in reverse. Jiraiya still slumped in his seat, radiating dejection. 

“It’s all right,” Orochimaru said awkwardly. “One of mine straight-up asked if I was free this weekend.” 

“What?!” Jiraiya yelled, staring at Orochimaru wide-eyed. 

“You’re yelling,” Orochimaru reminded him.

“What,” Jiraiya repeated more quietly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“And face Tsunade’s wrath?” Orochimaru asked, quirking an eyebrow. “No, thank you.”

“She probably wouldn’t have yelled at you,” Jiraiya pouted. “She thinks you have better judgement than I do.” 

“I wonder why,” Orochimaru said, rolling his eyes. 


	2. Chapter 2

Second time’s the charm, Jiraiya reminded himself as he stood outside the door to his classroom. He could more than make up for his fumbles on the first day. He’d woken up early enough to run a comb through his hair, which he’d tied off at the nape of his neck, like usual. By the grace of God - or, rather, Tsunade - he’d been able to convince Orochimaru that the outfits he’d chosen for Jiraiya were terrible. 

With Tsunade’s blessing, he’d been allowed to leave the car wearing a grey t-shirt and the red, button-up sweater she’d bought for him last Christmas (which still had the tags on it, to her annoyance). It was a step up from Orochimaru’s standard, but it still wasn’t quite his style, even with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Maybe, as the semester went on, he could slip further into his preferred attire without anyone noticing a huge difference. 

He could do this. He was dressed more comfortably, he had a fresh cup of (admittedly alcoholic) coffee he’d bought from the shop downtown, which thankfully didn’t discriminate about the time of day, and he’d planned today’s lecture out a little better than he had on Monday. 

To his relief, the chatter in the room didn’t stop the way it had on the first day when he walked into the room. Now that Tsunade had pointed it out to him, he couldn’t help but notice that a few of his female students were, in fact, giving him the once-over. Didn’t they know he had more than half a decade on them? It was flattering, sure, but really? He pushed those thoughts out of his head as he set his bag and coffee down on top of his desk.

“Alright,” he began, all too aware of the verbal tic that he leaned on when he felt awkward, “so today, we’re going to have a sort of open forum. I assume that everyone here has written at least one piece of fiction by this point. I don’t care if it’s a novel, a short story, fanfiction, or even in your diary about your crush. Point is, you’ve done it. I want to hear from you guys. Talk to me about your challenges, where you run into problems, what works and what doesn’t. This is a class discussion, so chime in for your classmates. I’m not going to be the only one answering. Sound good?” Jiraiya rolled the office chair out from behind the desk, moving it to the front of the room. He sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and leaned back, resting one elbow on the armrest and his chin on his fist.

A hand went up in the back of the room. He had to crane his neck to see the student, who was wearing a cotton face mask.  Was he sick? Was he  _ contagious _ ? Pushing the thought out of his mind, Jiraiya spoke up. “Yeah, you. Grey-hair. Don’t worry about raising your hand. Just call it out. Oh, and give us your name.”

The student lifted his face from his book, which he closed and sat on his desk. “Kakashi,” he declared. “Is it normal for characters to go off the outline when writing? There have been times that, well, something I’ve written suddenly becomes very explicit without my intention…”

A few giggles sounded from around the room, and Jiraiya waved his hand to quiet them down. “C’mon, guys. You’re adults. Sex happens.” He bit his tongue, not wanting to push the matter too far and be reported for harassment. “It’s going to be talked about in here, so get used to it. You might learn something.” That wasn’t a reportable offense, right? Sex shows up all the time in literature, whether explicit or through metaphor. It was reasonable to discuss in the classroom like this… right?

“Anyway, Kakashi,” he continued. “For one, outlines aren’t shit when you start writing. If your characters are any good, they’ll have minds of their own. They’ll lead you through their story. Most of the time, they’re going to do what they want, no matter your plan. And, sometimes, what they want to do is each-other.” Hey, that was pretty clever. He should write that one down and use it later.

“But, I don’t understand…” the blonde kid from the first day, whose name he had yet to learn but didn’t want to ask, chimed in. “We’re in a fiction class, and that’s just… porn.”

“Kid, let me tell you something. If you’re eighteen and haven’t figured out that porn is fiction, you need to go home and do some soul searching.” Jiraiya quirked an eyebrow, trying to disguise his genuine concern for his student.

“Even if it’s realistic?”

He couldn’t hold back the weary sigh that slipped from his lips. He sat up a little straighter and bridged his fingers. “Okay. I know you guys haven’t made it this far without knowing the difference between fiction and nonfiction, right?” Murmurs of assent drifted toward the front of the room. “Good. Okay. So, let’s say that you’re online and you find a video… of someone baking a cake.” That was probably the worst analogy he could have made. “Odds are, it’s probably scripted, staged, and not real. That’s fiction. Now, let’s say you videotape you and your girlfriend baking a cake,” he fought the urge to wince. He didn’t get paid enough for this. “Seeing as that actually happened, as long as it wasn’t scripted or staged, it’d probably be nonfiction. See what I’m getting at?”

“But what does baking cakes have to do with porn?” An innocent-looking girl asked from the front row.

Jiraiya groaned and rested his head in his hands for several seconds. He stood up and walked to his desk, where he picked up his travel mug of coffee that was more Bailey’s than anything else. He lifted it to his lips and drained what was left, hoping to find a little patience and stability in the bottom of the cup. He chucked the paper cup into the trash before saying, “Let’s just move on.”

He was going to lose his job, and he hadn’t even made it through the first week. Fantastic.

* * *

Tsunade knew she really shouldn't stop at the on campus coffee shop this often. She really couldn't afford the luxury. But alcohol wasn't allowed on campus. (She’d already finished the heavily spiked to go mug Jiraiya had shoved in her hand on the drive in.)

“Kurenai, I'm serious, you will not believe what we talked about in Jiraiya's class today!” 

What had Jiraiya done now? Tsunade wondered. 

“Maybe I’d believe it if you told me! Spill, Anko!” 

“Porn. Today we talked about porn.”

“No. Way.” Kurenai gasped. 

“See, I told you you wouldn't believe me!” 

“But why?” Kurenai asked. That's what I want to know too, Tsunade thought grimly. 

“Well, this kid, Kakashi…”

“Silver hair, always has his nose in a trashy romance?”

“That's the one! Well, he starts asking what happens if your characters take things somewhere ‘explicit’...” Anko said. Tsunade was distracted from their conversation when her name was called, announcing that her coffee was ready. Tsunade took a sip, wincing. The drink wasn't nearly alcoholic enough for this. She was definitely going to kill Jiraiya later. What was he thinking, stealing the innocence of baby freshmen like this?

 

Tsunade slammed the door and Orochimaru winced.

“Whatever pissed you off, it wasn't my car,” Orochimaru said. Tsunade bared her teeth in a grimace, and Orochimaru didn't push it any farther. Reaching into the front seat, she smacked Jiraiya hard on the back of the head. 

“What the hell?” Jiraiya asked. “What did I do?” 

“You talked to your poor baby impressionable freshman class about porn!” 

“You did what?” Orochimaru said, turning to stare at Jiraiya as well.

"Tsunade, I did not talk explicitly about porn, I promise! I had a kid ask about writing scenes of an adult nature, then it turns out that half of my class thinks porn is reality! What are they teaching in high school? All I said was that it was fiction, ok? Hell, if I wanted to deal with this shit, I would have taken up stripping like Oro suggested! At least if they're paying for it they know it's not real life!" Jiraiya growled. 

“You’re both going to be walking if you don’t stop yelling in my car,” Orochimaru said evenly. “Don’t even test me today.” 

“Did you get hit on again?” Jiraiya asked, seizing the opportunity to divert attention from himself. 

“What?” Tsunade asked staring at Orochimaru. “Put a bookmark in that, we’re definitely talking about it, but not until I’m done with Jiraiya. Also, stripping? What the hell?” Orochimaru shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“He could pull it off, and I needed him to pay rent on time. It was a valid suggestion.” 

“I don’t think I actually wanted to know about this,” Tsunade said, closing her eyes. 

“You did ask,” Jiraiya reminded her. “But I chose to try and make a living with my brains, not my body.” 

“Ew, don’t,” Tsunade said. “Who hit on you, Oro?” Both being in science fields, Tsunade and Orochimaru had a decent number of students that were in both their classes. 

“Itachi Uchiha,” Orochimaru said with a sigh. “That boy is nothing if not persistent.”

“What is in the water here?” Tsunade asked no one in particular. “Your students have problems.” 

“I think she’s insulting our good looks, Oro,” Jiraiya said. 

“Rude,” Orochimaru said flatly. 

“Don’t gang up on me,” Tsunade scolded.

* * *

 

Saturday used to mean fun, Jiraiya thought mournfully. Now they were camped in Orochimaru’s house surrounded by a massive amount of grading, not to mention their own homework. Orochimaru sat at the desk, scribbling furiously, while Tsunade had claimed the couch, using a TV tray when she needed a solid surface to write on. Jiraiya sprawled on the floor between them.

“Anyone else want another beer?” he asked, wincing at the series of cracks and pops as he stood up. 

“Hell yes,” Tsunade said.

“Me too,” Orochimaru said, raising a pen held between two fingers. Jiraiya edged carefully around his disaster zone on the floor and into the kitchen. (Clean description of how you hold three cans in a triangle shape to be filled in after I can test it.) Jiraiya passed out the beer, and settled back into his nest of papers.

“I’m going to kill them all,” he muttered. “Or fail them, whichever comes first.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Tsunade said soothingly, cracking open her beer.

“It is,” Jiraiya growled. “Half of my class is just there because they need a humanities credit. They think I’ll just let them get away with shit because their high school teachers did! I never thought I would come to hate fucking cell phones so much, but man, I fucking hate cell phones. Don’t get me wrong I’m all for technology, but this is like beginning of a sci-fi novel bad. I’m pretty sure some of them are watching Netflix while I’m talking. Are either of you having this problem?” Jiraiya asked.  Tsunade and Orochimaru shook their heads. 

“Scholarship kids,” said Tsunade.

“And my section is honors,” Orochimaru added.

“Great. Just great. You two get the nerds, and I get Tsunade’s coffee shop buddy who I’m pretty sure spends the whole class trying to take snaps of my ass.”

“I never thought I’d see the day when you weren’t flattered by female attention,” Tsunade teased trying to cheer Jiraiya up.

“They’re practically babies!” Jiraiya said. 

“Isn’t the rule half your age plus seven?” Orochimaru asked. 

“Listen, if they can’t drink, I’m not touching it,” Jiraiya said dragging a hand down his face. “And believe it or not, I actually want to keep this job. I like teaching, most days. It just gets to me, y’know? Like, I want them to succeed, but I can’t make them care.” 

“That’s why you’re a good teacher,” Orochimaru said without looking up. “You care. Just try to teach them about something other than porn, mmmm?” 

“Thanks, Oro.” 

* * *

 

Tsunade looked up from her phone, frowning. Instead of the smooth purr of Orochimaru’s car, she heard unhealthy rattle of Jiraiya’s junker. She slid into the empty passenger seat, throwing her backpack over the seat. 

“Where’s Orochimaru?” She asked. 

“That’s the million dollar question,” Jiraiya said. “He never came home last night and he’s not answering his phone. I’m guessing he got caught up in some project in the lab. I’ll go pull him out when we get to campus.” 

“I never thought you’d be the responsible one,” she said. Jiraiya just grinned. 

“We all know I’m the mom friend of this group.”

“That’s terrifying,” Tsunade said. “True, but terrifying. How did this happen?”

“I’m the only one who remembers that humans should eat on a semi-regular basis.”

 

Jiraiya handed the girl behind the counter at the bio lab front desk a large coffee. 

“Two sugars and a dash of milk, just like you like it, Jess,” he said with his best flirtatious grin. She cradled the coffee in her hands taking an appreciative whiff. 

“Yes, Orochimaru’s here. Third room on the right.”

“Thanks, love,” Jiraiya said, sliding around the corner with a wink. He knocked on the door and yelled, “Incoming!”

Orochimaru looked up from his microscope. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oro, buddy, it’s almost time for your class. The one where you’re the teacher,” Jiraiya said. Orochimaru looked at his watch. 

“Shit!” He hissed. “I don’t even have time to change!” Jiraiya gave him a quick once over, taking in the purple V-neck and black skinny jeans held up with a silver-studded belt. 

“You look fine,” Jiraiya soothed. He started stacking Orochimaru’s notes and putting them neatly in his backpack. “But if you don’t leave right now, we’re both going to be late to class. I don’t know about yours, but my students would be absolutely devastated.” Jiraiya unzipped a front pocket of orochimaru’s back pack and handed him his eyeliner, pulling out his own phone to serve as a mirror. 

“Fix your makeup before you go. You look like you’ve been staring into the void all night.” Orochimaru grimaced, but he took the offered eyeliner. 

 

Itachi couldn’t breathe. Orochimaru was attractive on a normal day, but this… This was something else completely. Was that… Was that purple eyeliner? Itachi knew he was staring, but a quick glance told him that most of the class was staring too, attention completely transfixed by Orochimaru as he walked to the board. Black skinny jeans rode low on his hips, held up by a silver-studded belt, topped with a purple V-neck that hugged his frame. Chunky silver earrings moved with every move he made. The earrings made so much more sense with this version of Orochimaru, Itachi thought. Orochimaru began teaching as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As if this was an everyday occurrence. As if a solid fourth of his students weren’t questioning their sexuality. Orochimaru stretched to write on the board, and Itachi thought he might pass out. This was just too much. How was he supposed to focus on biology notes in this Twilight Zone episode of a class? His phone sat on the desk. It would be so so easy… He could pretend he was taking a shot of the notes… He shouldn't . He really really shouldn't. But who knew if he would ever get this chance again? Itachi broke. He pulled up Snapchat, carefully angling his phone to perfectly capture Orochimaru’s backside in jeans that did everything right. One click and it was done. Itachi saved the picture, closed the app, and pretended he was taking notes. At this point, he just had to accept that he wasn’t learning anything this class. Except how well Orochimaru could pull off eyeliner. 

* * *

 

Tsunade supposed that she was lucky. Even when she was running late, when she didn’t have a chance to change her clothes or fix her hair before class, she didn’t have to worry about whether or not she looked professional. The blue scrubs she had worn to her lab that morning weren’t exactly flattering, but they were passable as work attire. Cleanup had taken a lot longer than she would have liked, and her lab partners worked infuriatingly slowly that morning. Sure, it was a Friday; everyone and their cousin was hungover. All the same, it was frustrating when her classmates didn’t share her drive.

By the grace of all that was holy, she made it through the door to her classroom just before her time limit was up. Two more minutes, and her students could have left, per university policy. The collective groan of disappointment was almost music to her ears.

“Yeah, I know,” she dismissed the complaints as she pulled her scrub cap off her head. It was the red one, covered in dice, that Jiraiya had given her last Christmas. Considering her luck with gambling, she was sure to wear it only when working with something that was already dead or inanimate. She set her bag down on the desk and withdrew a bottle of lotion, rubbing some between her hands to relieve the dryness that the latex gloves had left behind. “You guys can’t get that lucky,” she quipped before taking out a stack of graded papers.

Tsunade walked through the aisles as she handed back the assignments. “This was bad,” she informed them. “This is an advanced class, and most of you are on scholarships. You can’t keep putting out work like this and expect to stay in the program.” Itachi Uchiha’s unusual 95 was the next in her hand. “Some of you did well,” she continued, placing the sheet face down in front of him. After learning that he’d hit on Orochimaru, she couldn’t look him in the eye with a straight face. “You’d do well to find those students and form study groups. It’s the second week, and it’s only going to get harder.”

Once she was back at the front of the room, she picked up her scrub cap and punched the fabric out, making it take shape. She turned it over and filled it with folded scraps of paper. It wasn’t a bowl, but it worked well enough. “Come up here and take a number. Find the person with the same number as you. They’ll be your partner for your research project. This will be due at the end of the semester; the requirements are in your syllabus. It’s on each of you to complete this project before the deadline. I will not remind you or hold your hand.”

“Find your partner and take the rest of the class to discuss your topics. You can leave, or you can stay, but I want a committed response first thing on Monday.”

One by one, the students took a number and found their assigned partners. They gradually trickled out, until Itachi was the only one left behind. Tsunade looked down into the cap and saw one number left. She opened the piece of paper, asking “Ten?”

“Yes,” Itachi confirmed.

Tsunade clicked her tongue as she looked over the class list. “Rin Nohara is going to be your partner. She emailed me that she wouldn’t be in class today.” A quick look around told her that they were alone. “She’ll be a good partner for you. She works hard and is focused, like you are. Look for her on Monday. She has short, brown hair, big eyes, and she’s just a bit shorter than I am.”

Itachi nodded, taking this in. “Alright. I’ll do that.” He put the slip of paper in his pocket and turned to leave, hesitating for a moment before rotating on his heel. “I don’t want to overstep here, but I’ve seen you around with Orochimaru, the advanced biology grad teacher. Do you know if he’s-”

“Itachi, I like you, so please don’t finish that sentence,” Tsunade interrupted him. “I’m not involved; please don’t pull me in.”

Itachi gave her a regretful glance. “Sorry,” he apologized, clearly genuine. “I didn’t… I’ll just go. Have a good weekend, Tsunade.” Before she could react, the door closed between them.

* * *

 

“Apparently Orochimaru had a very interesting day,” Tsunade said, sliding into Jiraiya’s car. “We’re still grading tonight, right? I have to give Oro a hard time about whatever he did to Itachi Uchiha. He was asking  _ me  _ about Oro’s relationship status!”  

“Really? Bold move. I would bet you it was the skinny jeans,” Jiraiya said. “Or the eyeliner.”

“What?” Tsunade asked.

“Oro spent the night in the lab, in his normal attire,” Jiraiya said with a grin. “He didn’t have a change of clothes with him.” Tsunade snorted, holding back a laugh.

“That probably does explain it, the students have never seen Oro in his less… Professional attire,” Tsunade said. “Well, his punk ass certainly got to Itachi. Don’t any of the student here have any taste?” 

“I am offended for both myself and Orochimaru,” Jiraiya said, pressing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “You know full well that we were blessed with dazzling good looks.” 


	3. Snapchat Friends

Tsunade’s phone vibrated, buzzing three times in quick succession. It lay out of her reach, and she couldn’t be bothered to reach it, so she’d let it sound off. No one important could be trying to reach her; she was grading with Orochimaru and Jiraiya, and her grandfather always called rather than texted. The almost constant vibration against the coffee table was starting to bother her. From her reclined position on the couch, she gestured to her phone with her pen. “Silence that for me, would you?”

“Sure thing.” Jiraiya reached up and hit the volume button, causing the screen to illuminate. He frowned, his eyebrows drawn together. “Who’s Kabuto Yakushi, and why do you have five texts from him?”

Tsunade made a ‘gimme’ motion with her hand, taking her phone from a reluctant Jiraiya. “What does he want?” she asked herself out loud. After reading the text messages, she sighed and shook her head. She spoke as she typed, “I’m grading. Need to be done by Monday. Can’t, sorry.” With a wooshing sound, her phone sent the message before she silenced her ringer. Jiraiya was looking at her expectantly, so she answered his question. “I had Anatomy with him last year. He invited me to a party his frat is having tonight.”

“You turned him down to grade?” Orochimaru inquired. Tsunade wasn’t one to pass up a chance at free alcohol, no matter what she was doing.

“I turned him down because he’s in my class,” she grimaced. She now had the full attention of both men. Her phone clacked back down onto the coffee table. “He’d taken enough supplementary credits that he jumped right into major classes his first semester. He says that, when he registered for my class, it had the name of the department chair as the instructor. He said he’d transfer out if it was a conflict of interest, but it’s not, and he needs the credit.”

“Texting your cell to ask you to a party seems like a pretty big conflict of interest,” Jiraiya retorted, displeased with the situation. Tsunade’s cell screen lit up, and he took it in his hand. “‘Sad emoji. Ok, maybe next time,’” he read, “‘Don’t work too hard.’ Oh, no, wait, here’s another one… Snapchat? You have him on snapchat?”

Tsunade shrugged. “I don’t get what the big deal is.”

Jiraiya held his thumb down on the screen and opened the video message. A silver-haired man in glasses held the camera high, his face just barely in frame as he turned to show the party going on in the background. The black bar across the video read ‘better than grading.’ He made a face of disgust and looked at Orochimaru, who was taking all of this in from his desk. The pair looked at Tsunade in unison.

“You are aware that he’s attracted to you?” Orochimaru questioned, looking for a response in her facial features.

“No, he’s not,” Tsunade protested. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jiraiya make a threatening face into the camera of her phone. “Hey! What’re you doing?!”

Jiraiya’s thumbs darted about the screen. “Telling this kid that he needs to find something better to do than bother his professor.”

“Give me that,” she snapped, snatching the phone from him. 

“What? Don’t tell me you  _ like  _ this guy,” Jiraiya sneered.

“Of course I don’t! But that’s no reason for you to be an ass. Do you know how hard it is to find other medicine majors who actually get outside of the library? So what if we hang out between classes sometimes?”

Orochimaru groaned and put his face in his hands. She’d never seen him do that before. When she looked back to Jiraiya, his face said it all.

“Oh my god, he’s in love with me.”

“And  _ there _ we are.” Jiraiya handed her back her cellphone. “I love you, Tsunade, but God you can be dense.”

Tsunade sank down into the couch. “Fuck. And it’s too late to have him drop or transfer. I’m stuck.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “God dammit, he has my number, he knows my schedule, he even knows where I live. And not because he’s a stalker! Ugh, why couldn’t he settle for being friends?! Now I’m going through the last year and everything just feels so  _ tainted. _ ”

Orochimaru’s chair screeched across the floor as he pushed himself back. “I’ll get the beer.”

* * *

 

“Tsunade!” 

Tsunade stopped just outside the women’s bathroom, where she’d changed into her scrubs for class. She was caught off guard when she saw Kabuto jogging down the hall. Normally, she would have made a joke about his scrub cap, which was covered in pictures of cartoon dogs; he considered it lucky. Today, however, she didn’t quite know what to say when he stopped in front of her.

“Listen, I just want to say sorry about the other night,” the medical student began, fiddling with the tag on his borrowed stethoscope. “I didn’t mean to come on so strong, and I swear, I had no idea that you’re seeing someone. I mean, I won’t lie and say I’m not disappointed, but I’m not a jackass,” he laughed nervously. 

“What?” Tsunade narrowed her eyes.

“I- I mean, if I insulted you or offended you in any way, I’m sorry. And I hope that we can still hang out and be friends, you know, if your boyfriend’s okay with it. But maybe you could ask him? Because I’ve gotta be honest, he’s a little terrifying.”

“Kabuto, stop.” Tsunade held up her hand. “What the  _ hell _ are you talking about?”

Kabuto peered at her over the top of his glasses. “You remember, I invited you to the frat party, you said you were grading, I sent you that video, your boyfriend threatened me…” He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the hem of his scrub top, finding a reason to look away. 

“ _ Jiraiya _ ,” she growled, scowling in anger. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

“No, really, I didn’t mean to start any trouble,” Kabuto waved his hands in front of himself. “If it’s going to be easier to cut me out, I’ll understand. But, if he’s threatening you, you know there are resources on campus-”

“Go to class, Kabuto.” She did her best to look calm. “Thank you for the apology. It’s not your fault he’s an asshole.”

“Uh… Yeah, right… Okay.” Kabuto turned around and gave her an uncertain wave over his shoulder before heading back down the hall. “Text me… if you can… I guess.”

* * *

 

Jiraiya clicked around on the desktop in his classroom, pulling up the first few scenes of  _ Citizen Kane _ with the intent of discussing narrative as a storytelling device. This particular exercise had been Orochimaru’s idea, and he’d been more than happy to adapt it for his course. Film could be just as fictional as literature, after all, and Jiraiya tended toward less… refined works in the method. It wasn’t that he thought  _ Citizen Kane _ was a bad movie; quite the opposite, in fact. However, he hadn’t seen the film until Orochimaru dug out his old VHS player and a cassette tape. After spending a quarter of an hour ridiculing his roommate about being a hipster, Jiraiya settled in, and he was enraptured by what he saw on the screen.

His students were filing into the classroom one by one, and he didn’t think much of the doors opening and closing as he worked. He didn’t notice the invasion of his personal space until it was too late. The cartilage of his left ear was caught between Tsunade’s thumb and index finger; when he looked up at her, wincing in pain, she stared back in barely controlled rage. “Let me go!” he exclaimed, mortified that she was doing this in front of his students. 

“You’re a dead man,” she hissed. “Hallway. Now.” She pulled Jiraiya up by her grip on his ear, towing him after her into the hall. 

“What. The. Hell. Did you say to Kabuto? He seems to think we’re in an abusive relationship!” Tsunade pinned Jiraiya to the wall, her forearm braced across his chest. Jiraiya winced. 

“Uh, Tsuna, it kind of looks that way right now…” He mumbled. Tsunade shoved him again. 

“I want the exact words you used. Right now, Jiraiya.” 

“Okay, okay. Just don’t get mad. I was just trying to be funny.” Oh, god, she was going to murder him. “I had your snapchat open from that video, so I made that angry face you hate and sent him a snap. I typed ‘ who the fuck is this and why do you have her number’ on it, and then another one said ‘she KNOWS she isn't supposed to have guys on here goddammit.’ I thought he knew who I was, I swear to god. But, really, isn’t this your fault for not telling him about me after knowing him so long?” Jiraiya pleaded. Tsunade bared her teeth, and Jiraiya knew he was screwed. 

“He should just be getting out of class. We're going, and YOU are going to explain everything and apologize,” Tsunade said, her voice cold and calm now. I am never making it out of this alive, Jiraiya thought. 

“But Tsuna, I have a class…” He tried. 

“Start them off. You’re fixing this now.” She followed him into the classroom, ignoring the students obviously scrambling back into their seats. 

“I’m going to be borrowing your teacher for a little bit,” she said calmly, as if she hadn’t just pinned Jiraiya to the wall in anger. “Jiraiya, dear, what are they working on?” Jiraiya managed to explain what they were looking for before starting the Citizen Kane clips and following Tsunade out of the classroom. 

“I’m never recovering from this as a teacher, you know,” he muttered. 

“Neither am I, if you don't fix this fuck up,” Tsunade said sharply. “Kabuto!” She called, getting the med students attention. He walked towards them warily. Jiraiya looked like someone had kicked his puppy, and Tsunade’s smile was dangerous. 

“Hey, what can I do for you, Tsunade?” He asked carefully. 

“Jiraiya has something he would like to say,” she said, shoving Jiraiya forward from where he was sulking behind her. 

“So, uh, it appears I gave you the wrong impression,” Jiraiya muttered. “I, ah, thought you knew who I was. It was supposed to be funny.” He looked sideways at Tsunade, who glared at him. “I, ah, don’t control her social media, and uh, we’re not in a relationship at all, and, ah, I’m sorry for, uh, giving you the wrong impression. Was that good enough?” He asked, looking at Tsunade. She stared him down for a long uncomfortable moment before nodding. 

“It will do, go back to your class.” Jiraiya practically bolted, and Kabuto stared after him in confusion. Maybe he had offered help to the wrong person…? At least he knew Tsunade was single now. 

* * *

 

Kakashi leaned against the trunk of the tree he’d settled underneath, humming in thought. He sat with his knees bent and his feet on the ground. His fingers busied themselves with braiding Tenzo’s long hair. The younger man had his eyes closed and his face tilted skyward, listening to Anko as she spoke.

“So God knows what she’s gonna do to him, if she was willing to do all that in public,” Anko finished her account of that afternoon’s escapades. Her teeth bit down on the hard candy she was enjoying with a crunch. 

“Hold this,” Kakashi instructed, putting a segment of Tenzo’s long hair in his hand. 

Tenzo did as he was told. “I just don’t get how they’re friends. I mean, Orochimaru is no-nonsense in class. He showed up dressed in skinny jeans and a v-neck, no lie, and I thought half the class was going to pass out. Maybe he’s different out of the classroom? He has to be, to wear purple eyeliner, right?”

“ _ Please _ tell me you got a picture,” Anko begged.

“No, but Itachi did,” Tenzo snickered. “He was sly about it, but I saw because I sit behind him, diagonally.” He handed Kakashi the segment of hair he’d been holding when the silver-haired man tapped his shoulder.

“Was he hot?”

Tenzo could feel Kakashi looking at him. “He’s not my type,” he said, being honest. This didn’t save him from a smack upside the head. “Hey!”

“My hand slipped,” Kakashi deadpanned, looking at his fingers as he braided.

“Do we know anyone in Tsunade’s class?” Anko inquired after Tenzo elbowed Kakashi in the chest.

“Itachi,” Tenzo mused. “That Kabuto kid is in there, too.”

“Wait,” Kakashi almost dropped Tenzo’s hair. “Kabuto. The same Kabuto she was yelling at Jiraiya about?”

Anko’s jaw dropped, and she grinned. “It’s gotta be, right? How common of a name could that be?”

“If it’s Kabuto Yakushi, he’s in biology with me and Itachi. Big glasses, white hair, kinda a know-it-all?” Tenzo dug out his cell phone. “One sec; he’s in the foreground of a pic I took of the powerpoint.” With a few taps, he turned the phone to Anko, who leaned in to examine it.

“I don’t know him, but it could be. Tenzo, you gotta find out.”

“How do you expect me to do that? ‘Hey, are you the kid that made my boyfriend’s teacher get assaulted in the hallway?’”

“Straightforward enough,” Kakashi chuckled. “Hey, Anko, you could try to find out. What did you say to me about Jiraiya on our first day?”

“That I should write all of my fiction assignments about dat ass?”

“That’s it. You could try to flirt your way into finding out what’s going on. He looks as straight as they come.”

“Wait,” Tenzo waved his hand to quiet them down. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted “Kabuto!” Sure enough, his classmate stopped in his tracks along the path. Tenzo waved to him, beckoning him over.

“What are you doing?” Kakashi murmured in his ear.

“Getting you your gossip,” Tenzo responded in a low tone. When Kabuto approached them, he spoke in a normal volume. “You know Orochimaru, right? More than as our teacher?”

“I suppose?” Kabuto arched an eyebrow. “I know him by association. He’s good friends with a good friend. Why?”

“We were talking about how Orochimaru always seems to be around Kakashi and Anko’s professor, Jiraiya.”

“I don’t know him that well, either. I only really know Tsunade, the blonde woman they’re with most of the time.”

“Do you know what their deal is?” Anko inquired.

“I know that Jiraiya and Orochimaru are roommates,” Kabuto shrugged. “The three of them spend a lot of time together. Like I said, I don’t know either of them very well, although I’m more familiar with Orochimaru than Jiraiya.”

“But, really, though… how are they friends?” Anko gestured for Kabuto to take a seat, which he refused.

“Tsunade and Orochimaru are both very intelligent, and they study similar fields. Jiraiya… is a bit of a buffoon. It may be that he’s a friend of association by virtue of living with Orochimaru. I really don’t know.” Kabuto was starting to get suspicious of the questioning.

“Actually,” Tenzo spoke, “I was wondering if you knew when Orochimaru was going to put the powerpoints online.”

“Oh,” Kabuto blinked. “He’s pretty good about it. I’d be surprised if they weren’t up by tomorrow morning.”

Tenzo smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate it. I’ll see you later.”

“Have a good one, Tenzo.” Kabuto raised his hand in a wave before walking away.

Tenzo waited until Kabuto was out of earshot. “Well, there you have it.”

Anko leaned forward and put a hand on both of Tenzo’s cheeks, pulling him forward so that she could kiss his forehead. “You’re the best, boo.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tenzo saw Kakashi make a grabby-hand for the hairtie. He passed it back, and Kakashi twisted it around the end of his braid. 

“It’s probably too much to ask that you use this information for good instead of evil, isn’t it?” Tenzo asked as he leaned back against Kakashi’s chest.

Anko placed a hand over her heart, looking emotionally touched. “Aww, boo, you know me so well.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jiraiya lay on his back on the wooden floor of his apartment, his legs extended to rest on the back of the couch. Tsunade was stretched out in her usual spot, her legs beneath his as she worked. Orochimaru, despite their pleas, continued to sit at his desk, claiming that it was better for his posture. Jiraiya prodded at his tablet, which he held over his face with one hand. This was the longest that he’d been quiet the entire day, and it was starting to become worrisome.

“Is he alive?” Orochimaru drawled, not turning away from his work.

Tsunade moved one leg and bent it at the knee, prodding his thigh with her foot.

“Hey!” Jiraiya lowered the tablet to glare at her.

“Yup,” she responded, slipping her leg back by the other.

“Did you guys know that graduate professors can be scored on Rate My Professor?” Jiraiya asked, studying his screen.

“That’s kinda the point of the website…” Tsunade arched an eyebrow.

“Well,” Jiraiya grinned, flipping the tablet around so that she could see it, “I’ve got a hotness rating of 9.5, baby! Woo! See that, Tsuna? Objective proof that I’m hot.”

“Congratulations,” she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you have papers to read?” Orochimaru inquired.

“Tsunade… Senju…” Jiraiya spoke aloud as he typed on the tablet. “Here we go. Hotness 9.7; no surprise there.” The wink he gave her went deliberately unnoticed. He read on, his lips drawing into a thin line as he progressed. “Um, Tsuna, your students are really fucking sexist.”

“Welcome to my field. Trust me, if I had a dollar for every time someone assumes I’m studying to be a nurse, I would be debt-free.”

“These aren’t even real complaints! ‘Hot. Too hot to be a doctor.’ What the fuck is that?! There are three actual reviews on here. Well, three that signed their names to them. Rin Nohara, Itachi Uchiha, and Kabuto Yakushi.”

Tsunade sighed. “Bless those three. They’re all getting A’s this semester, I’m making sure of it.”

“If you figure out who medmanforlyfe is, flunk him.” Jiraiya frowned, his brow creasing. “Assholes,” he grumbled to himself.

Orochimaru stood from his chair and walked over, pushing Jiraiya’s legs off the couch. He lifted Tsunade’s legs and sat down, letting them fall on his lap. Now, he was close enough to be part of the conversation. “I can talk to Itachi and Kabuto. They might know who’s been whispering these things.”

“Thanks, Oro, but I’m a big girl. I can deal with a couple of sexist students.”

Orochimaru studied her face, trying to see if she was being honest. “Alright,” he relented, “but I’m stepping in if I need to.”

“Okay, this shit’s rigged,” Jiraiya exclaimed, drawing their attention. “Oro’s a 9.8 on the hotness scale? What kind of fresh hell is this?!”

Tsunade whistled. “Somebody made an impression in his hot pants.”

“They are not my ‘hot pants.’ All of my jeans fit that way. It’s just my frame.”

“Your sexy frame,” Tsunade wiggled her eyebrows with a laugh.

“Oh my _god_ someone uploaded a picture of your ass,” Jiraiya gagged.

“Give me that,” Orochimaru snapped. Tsunade sat up so she could look over his shoulder. “How the hell do I report this? This is completely unprofessional!”

Tsunade grabbed the tablet from him, choking back tears as she laughed, “‘He can teach me about biology in _and_ out of the classroom.’ Jesus, I can’t breathe!”

“I’m serious, Tsunade, report it!” Orochimaru protested. “I will not be objectified this way!”

“Welcome to it, babe.” Tsunade smirked. “Believe me, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Once they see you as a hot piece of ass, there’s no going back.” Without turning her attention away, she growled, “Jiraiya, I swear to god, if you don’t stop looking at my breasts I’m going to beat your head through the concrete.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Jiraiya held back a laugh, grinning, “So, Oro, where are these out-of-class Biology classes you’re having?”

Jiraiya and Tsunade burst into laughter, unable to contain themselves. Orochimaru narrowed his golden eyes. “I hate you both.” He moved Tsunade’s legs and stood, walking into the kitchen.

Tsunade rolled onto her stomach on the couch, crying after him, “Bring me a soda and a piece of that ass!”

Orochimaru stepped out of the kitchen with a glare. “You wish.”

Tsunade laughed so hard that she cried.

* * *

  “That’s it, life as we know it is over, and I’ve lost all faith in the next generation,” Tsunade announced, walking into the apartment without knocking.

  “What’s going on?” Orochimaru asked. Tsunade held up her phone, showing the boys a picture.

 “This is your ass again, Oro.” She swiped sideways, pulling up another picture. “And this is yours, Jiraiya. They’re going head to head, so to speak, on rate my prof.” Tsunade laughed as her boys looked at her with identical looks of disgust. She already had her phone out, so she went ahead and took a picture for her bad day collection. Jiraiya recovered first.

“So, who’s winning?” He asked.

“Are you serious,” Orochimaru said.

“Don’t act like you don’t want to know,” Jiraiya said. Orochimaru bit his lip, then shrugged.

“Fine. Tsuna, who’s winning?”

“Current standing in the Battle of the Booties is… Orochimaru is winning.”

“What!” Jiraiya cried. “By how much?” He made a grab for Tsunade’s phone, which she easily evaded.

“Does it really matter?” She asked.

“It does to me!” Jiraiya said. “I need to know how badly my ass is failing.” Tsunade clucked at him.

“Should I be worried about how invested you are? You don’t see Oro being all dramatic.”

“That’s because he’s winning!” Jiraiya argued. Orochimaru smiled slyly.

“What can I say? The public has spoken.” Orochimaru spread his arms in a wide encompassing gesture. Jiraiya stuck his tongue out at him.

“Don’t be too cocky, Oro, you’re only leading by 7 points, and it looks the the poll is open until the end of the week.” Tsunade said, just to get a reaction out of her boys. Jiraiya’s face showed hope and Orochimaru’s consternation. It was really too easy, Tsunade thought.

* * *

The screen of Itachi’s phone lit up as his silent alarm signaled that it was two in the morning. He slid the tip of his finger over the glass to dismiss the warning. Stifling a yawn, he took off his reading glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, trying to refocus himself. Across the table, Kabuto had his head in his hands, his elbows on either side of an open book. The way his head was tilted kept Itachi from seeing if he was awake. The Uchiha set his reading glasses on his head, out of the way, as he stood up. “Coffee,” he managed to inform his partner, who grunted in response.

The honors lounge was almost always empty, and none of the professors paid them any mind if they stayed late into the night. The doors locked automatically at night, but they could still be opened from the inside. For Itachi, the best part of studying here was the access they had to the faculty lounge. The environment in the medical science offices was fairly open, and Itachi was close enough with several of the professors to earn special privileges.

His footsteps echoed through the empty hallways, the old boards squeaking beneath his feet. He was surprised to find the light on in the lounge, but it was safe to assume that Kabuto forgot to turn it off on his last run. Itachi rounded the doorless entryway to find one of his professors sprawled out over the circular, wooden table at the far end of the lounge.

Tsunade’s forehead rested on her arms, in the middle of scattered books and papers. From the way her chest rose and fell, it seemed that she was asleep. Momentarily torn between letting her be and his need for caffeine, his fatigue won out. Resolved to be as quiet as possible, he puttered around the small kitchen, filling the pot with fresh coffee and water. He winced when the coffee pot began to gurgle, but the sound wasn’t enough to disturb Tsunade.

He took down two mugs from the cabinet, giving them a once-over just to be sure that they were properly cleaned. Seeing that they were to his satisfaction, he pulled his cellphone out of the back pocket of his jeans and began to tap around on the screen, busying himself until the coffee was ready. His stomach growled.

A quick look in the refrigerator showed him an unmarked pizza box. Itachi thoroughly checked the box for any markings, and, when he saw none, he cautiously examined the food itself to make sure it was edible. Hungry enough to take the risk, he tore off a piece before putting it back in the fridge. He took a small bite, poised to spit it out if it proved rotten. To his surprise, it wasn’t even stale. That was nothing but luck.

His dark eyes widened when the coffee pot signaled its completion with a shrill cry, and he fumbled with the buttons until it was silenced. He wasn’t fast enough, though. Tsunade lifted her head from her arms and looked blearily around the lounge.

“‘Tachi?” she mumbled.

Itachi raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure that she was conscious. “Hello,” he offered in a normal tone of voice.

“What time is it?” Tsunade rubbed her face with her hands. “What are you even doing here?”

“A little after two,” he informed her, now that he knew she wasn’t sleepwalking. “Kabuto and I are doing research in the honors lounge.” He hesitated before offering “Coffee?”

She nodded, and soon there was a cup pressed into her hands. “Thanks,” she intoned.

“Do you sleep here often?” Itachi asked, trying to be humorous. She was too tired to appreciate his effort.

“No. I sent Oro and Jiraiya home without me earlier. I guess I just passed out here.” She sighed. “They’re probably asleep by now.” She couldn’t call Orochimaru to pick her up this late at night. He would do it, of course, but she hated to ask him.

“Well, why don’t you come join us? “ he offered. “We won’t be here too much longer. I’m sure Kabuto wouldn’t mind giving you a ride.”

“I don’t want to put him out.”

“Tsunade, right now, I’m not your student when I say that neither of us will let you walk home. I don’t even know if you live within walking distance. The fact is that a woman of your stature shouldn’t be out alone this late.”

He wasn’t going to let up. He was right, of course, but she didn’t want to admit it. Nonetheless, she took a large drink of her coffee before standing up. “Alright. Give me a hand with these?” She nodded at her stack of books.

Itachi filled his coffee cup a second time and took several books under his arm before grabbing a mug for Kabuto. He and Tsunade walked together down the hall, and he nudged the door to the lounge open with his foot. He set down the two mugs and turned to hand the books to Tsunade, who threw herself unceremoniously onto the small couch.

Half-asleep, Kabuto looked up and over at her. He was just awake enough that his snark was in effect. “I thought they locked the doors to keep the homeless out at night.” His voice was heavy with fatigue.

Tsunade flipped him off.

“That’s not a very professor-ly thing to do,” Kabuto reminded her.

“I’m a professor from two to three-thirty three times a week. It’s two in the morning and I don’t give a shit.”

Kabuto chuckled before picking up his mug. “Fair’s fair,” he supposed.

“I told Tsunade that you’d give her a ride home when you drop me off,” Itachi informed him as he sat down.

Kabuto feigned a gasp. “But won’t Jiraiya be upset that you got into the car with not one, but two men?”

Tsunade propped herself up on her elbow. “I’m too tired for your shit, Yakushi.”

“Duly noted. I’ll save it until tomorrow, then.”

“Fuck it, I’m sleeping in the teacher’s lounge.”

“No, you’re staying here, and I’m taking you home,” Kabuto insisted, serious this time. “You work too hard, Tsunade. You’re going to burn yourself out.”

“He’s right,” Itachi agreed. “This level of stress isn’t good for the body.”

“I don’t need this shit from you right now,” Tsunade’s tone implied that she was being playful. “Who’s the professor here?”

“Not you, because it isn’t between the hours of two and three-thirty,” Kabuto smirked.

Tsunade picked up one of the decorative pillows and threw it, hitting Kabuto in the face.

* * *

Tenzo opened the ziploc bag of crackers he had packed away in his lunch box. Kakashi had mocked his practicality and bought him a flower-printed cooler bag, but Tenzo couldn’t care less, and he used it more often than not. It was too expensive to buy lunch every time he was on campus, and he didn’t have a meal plan.

He dug around in his backpack for the book Kakashi had lent him, and he was too preoccupied to notice that he had company.

“Mind if we join you?” Itachi smiled down at him, nodding to the grass. Tenzo gestured their welcome, and Itachi sat on his left, while Kabuto sat on his right. “Kabuto and I were going to study for Orochimaru’s exam, if you want to join us.”

“Oh, thank God,” Tenzo sighed. “The last one almost killed me.”

“I think he’ll have to curve,” Kabuto mused. “We’re at the top of the class, and we were lucky to make Cs.”

“We are?”

“I may have taken a peek at the gradebook.” Kabuto smirked at his admission, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t know how to feel about that…”

“Neither do we,” Itachi added.

Kabuto was about to open his textbook, but he lay it on the grass and pushed up his glasses. “I need some advice, and I trust the two of you to be discreet.” He waited for them both to nod. “Is it acceptable to ask one of your professors to set you up with another one of your professors? Romantically, I mean.”

“Tried it; didn’t work.” Itachi stretched his neck. Jokingly, he quipped, “If it didn’t work for the guy with cancer, you’re probably out of luck.”

“What do you mean?” Tenzo asked.

“I asked Tsunade about Orochimaru’s relationship status. She essentially told me to shut up and get out.”

“Harsh.”

“Not if you know her,” Kabuto corrected. Itachi and Tenzo both looked to him.

“You’re not really going to ask Orochimaru to set you up with Tsunade, are you?” Itachi pressed.

“Why not? Now that I know the massive, walking stereotype of masculine heterosexuality isn’t an issue, I can’t see it being a problem just to ask.”

Tenzo quirked an eyebrow. “Aren’t you straight, too?”

“Trust me. If you see the guy, you’ll know what I’m talking about.” Kabuto rolled his eyes behind his frames.

“Be careful, Kabuto. You don’t want to end up being ‘that guy.’ I think it’s safe to assume that Orochimaru is up to speed on everything you’ve sent or said to Tsunade,” Itachi pointed out.

“Which means Orochimaru probably knows that you asked if he’s single.” The look on Itachi’s face when Kabuto spoke showed that he hadn’t realized that particular detail.

“I mean, if you like her, go for it,” Tenzo suggested. “The worst thing she can say is no.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You didn’t have to ask Kakashi out.”

“True, but, technically, neither did he. Although I wouldn’t recommend getting shitfaced and waking up half-naked in a public park as a way to start any relationship.” Tenzo grimaced, remembering the call he had to place to Guy from the holding cell of the local station. Fun times.

“Speaking of Kakashi, doesn’t he have class with Jiraiya?” Itachi looked at his brown-haired companion. “Does he know if he’s… you know… right in the head?”

“Kakashi thinks he’s a genius,” Tenzo scoffed. “Apparently, he’s already written a book. Kakashi got him to sign his copy.” He passed the hardback over to Itachi.

“ _Make-out Paradise_?” Itachi furrowed his brow. “Please tell me that this isn’t a real novel.”

Kabuto took it from his friend and flipped it over to the back cover to read the summary. “Why’s it blank?”

Tenzo’s cheeks reddened. “Apparently, it’s pretty risque.”

“Wait, _Kakashi_ told you it’s risque?” Kabuto asked incredulously, only deepening his friend’s embarrassment. He opened the front cover and snorted as he read the inscription. “‘Kakashi, thank you for all your feedback on the _Violence_ manuscript,’ - the hell? - ‘You’ve been very helpful. I wouldn’t have thought of most of your notes! Consider this a part of your IOU; the rest will come when _Violence_ is published. Keep up the good work, kid. Jiraiya.”

Itachi blinked. “Well then.”

“This is how I die,” Tenzo bemoaned, falling forward over his crossed legs and laying in the grass.

“You know that we’re going to read that novel and try to find Kakashi’s additions,” Kabuto informed him coldly. His response came in the form of a muffled groan. He smirked, choking down his laughter. “But, really. This smut author, next to an aspiring doctor? There’s no comparison. I’m a thousand times better than this slacker.”

Itachi had taken the book back from Kabuto. His dark eyes scanned one of the pages before he clapped the book shut with both hands, placing it back in Tenzo’s pack.  “If I wasn’t sure I was gay before, I certainly am now.” He reached down and poked his friend in the ribs. “Get up, Tenzo. We’re joking.”

“No, you’re not,” the brunette muttered as he sat back up.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Kabuto grinned.

“Yo, Tenzo!”

The trio turned their heads to see Kakashi jogging lightly down the sidewalk, one hand raised in greeting. Tenzo began stuffing his things in his bag. Itachi and Kabuto exchanged a glance and began laughing so hard that they fell over themselves.

“What’s their deal?” Kakashi asked when he came to a stop. Tenzo grabbed him roughly by the wrist and tugged him away, his face twisted in a scowl. “Wait, what did I do?!”

Itachi crumbled into a coughing fit, unable to get enough air from laughing so hard. Kabuto reassuringly rubbed his shoulder blade. With his other hand, he took off his glasses and wiped the tears streaming down his face. With an amused sigh, he supposed, “Oh, he’s going to kick our asses for that.”

Itachi coughed harshly, and it seemed to be enough to clear his lungs. “Yours, maybe.”

“Oh, quit playing the invalid card. That’s just cheating if you use it more than twice a day.”

* * *

Jiraiya stood off to the side of the counter in the local coffee shop, awaiting his much-needed dose of caffeine. He slapped his cheeks to wake himself up a bit. When he put his hands down, he realized that he had been joined by a familiar face. “You, too, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kakashi mumbled from behind his mask. “Stayed up way later than I should have.”

“Just don’t go falling asleep in my class,” Jiraiya joked.

“Trust me, that’s what the coffee’s for. I won’t be able to listen to you drone on for an hour without it.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Rude,” the professor scoffed. The barista called out a triple red eye, and he approached the counter to retrieve his order. “I guess I should just be happy you’re showing up. Who knows, if you walk with me, maybe you’ll be on time.”

The barista called out Kakashi’s name. Apparently, they didn’t have a formal name for 8 ounces of straight espresso. He took a sip of it, black, quickly replacing his mask, and his professor gaped at him. Jiraiya was stirring a day’s recommendation of sugar into his cup, and he hadn’t even added cream.

“Jesus, kid. Did you not sleep at all?”

“Not really,” Kakashi admitted. “I had a fight with my boyfriend. He doesn’t let us go to bed angry.”

“Well, that’s actually pretty healthy.”

“Not when he won’t stop being angry.” Kakashi rubbed the back of his head as he lamented.

Jiraiya walked over to one of the small tables and sat down. “Is it crossing the whole professor-student thing if I ask if you want to talk about it?”

“Fuck it; we aren’t on campus.”

God, Jiraiya liked this kid. “Lay it on me.”

“I lent him my copy of _Paradise_ .” Jiraiya’s eyes lit up, and Kakashi held up his hand. “He didn’t read it. Apparently, Kabuto found your inscription, and he and Itachi got it twisted about what information I gave you for _Violence_.”

Of course Kabuto was involved, the little shit. He’d dwell on that later, though. “Oh,” he arched an eyebrow and sipped his coffee. “I think I see where this is going.”

“Yeah. Cue the fight. Nothing like finding out your SO’s editing explicit literature to bring out insecurities, I guess.”

Jiraiya hissed through his teeth. “That’s rough. You need me to talk to him?”

“No, it’s fine. We worked it out. I’m just dead on my feet.”

“Bottoms up,” Jiraiya joked, holding up his paper cup.

Kakashi bumped his own cup against his professor’s. He unhooked the cotton mask from behind one of his ears and put the cup to his lips, tilting his head back as he drank as much of the coffee as quickly as he could. He needed the energy, and fast. His now-empty cup was placed on the table, and his mask was hooked behind his ear once more. Across the table, his professor looked at him wide-eyed.

Rolling his eyes, Kakashi scolded, “Don’t give me the too-much-caffeine lecture, okay? You’re just as bad as I am.” He gestured to Jiraiya’s cup.

“Mother fucker,” Jiraiya shook his head.

“What?”

“It isn’t gonna sound like it, but I mean this in the most platonic way possible: hot damn, you’re gorgeous. How the hell is that even fair?”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s with the mask, then? I mean, I figured you had something going on with your nose or your teeth. Wait, you’re not actually contagious, are you?”

“I’m not sick,” Kakashi assured him. “Let’s just say I’ve got some family issues, and I don’t like being associated with them.”

“Damn, sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just been weeks, and I swear to God, I had this mental image of you with terrible teeth and a big-ass nose.”

“I feel like I should be flattered, but, somehow, I’m not.”

“Damn. It’s too bad you’re taken. You might have been able to get this girl from class from trying to climb me like a tree.”

“Anko?” Kakashi smirked when Jiraiya’s face told him he was right. “I doubt it. She has a thing for Tenzo. My boyfriend,” he clarified, realizing that he’d never used his name. “They’re best friends. It’s as good a reason as any not to let her see my face.” He laughed. “Do me a favor, don’t go telling everybody? I like my privacy.”

“Mum’s the word.” Jiraiya mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. He stood up to leave, and Kakashi followed him. The masked man threw his cup in the trash by the door. The bell jingled as they left, and Jiraiya chuckled, “So I’m taking it as a ‘no’ to use you two as inspiration for a couple in _Violence_?”

“It’s comments like that that cross that professor-student line, you know.”

“Shoulda figured. Oh well.” Jiraiya shrugged. “Do me a favor, though. Get Tenzo to read it. I’d like his feedback, and I’d prefer it if he didn’t think I’m a despicable pervert of a human being.”

“I’ll do my best.”


	5. Chapter 5

When Jiraiya’s phone vibrated against the hardwood floor, he leaned down to pick it up, thrilled to have a distraction from the essays he was proofreading. Behind him, on the couch, sat Tsunade, who managed to trap him long enough to run a comb through his unruly white hair. Jiraiya leaned his head back against her lap and looked up at her. “You wanna go to a party?”

“Someone invited you to a party?” she retorted, her lips turned up into a slight smirk. Her hand fisted a length of his hair as she tried to work through a knot, keeping the motion from tugging on his scalp.

“Yeah, this guy I know. He’s pretty cool.” He turned to call into the kitchen. “Oro! You’re coming to a party with me!”

Orochimaru stood in the doorway, face fallen in defeat. “Must I?”

“Come on, man. It’s not big, I don’t think. And it’s, like, two blocks away.”

“How many people?” Orochimaru wanted to cover all of his bases.

Jiraiya tapped away on his phone screen. After a moment, he had the answer sent in a message. “Ten, right now. More may show up later; he isn’t totally sure.”

“Who is it?” Tsunade inquired.

“Kakashi. The guy who helped me edit my manuscript.”

“But he’s one of your students.”

“The kid’s a blast. What’s the harm in it? It’s not like we’re on campus.”

“I’ll go, but I’m leaving if things get weird.” Orochimaru frowned to emphasize his point.

“You can’t leave us,” Jiraiya objected. Orochimaru gave him a look that said ‘watch me.’ “It’ll be fun, I promise! If it’s lame, we’ll bail.”

“We’re not getting dressed up for this, right?” Tsunade wrinkled her nose in disdain. At this point in her life, the only time she put on partying clothes was for a promising date. Jeans and a tank top, to her, were more than acceptable for the occasion. She just didn’t want Jiraiya and Orochimaru to dress better and make her look bad in comparison.

“No,” Orochimaru answered for his roommate, leaving no room for negotiation. 

“Please tell me you’re going to put on something other than those flannel pants,” Jiraiya begged him.

After a moment of consideration, Orochimaru relented, coming to a compromise. “Jeans and a t-shirt. That’s the best you’re going to get.”

“That’s all I ask.”

 

Jiraiya knocked on the white, wooden door of apartment number 325, shifting his weight from leg to leg as they waited in the hallway. The apartment complex wasn’t terrible; it had covered hallways and, to its benefit, was handicap accessible, making it one of the newer establishments. It didn’t smell, and all the lights were functioning. Then again, after his sophomore year, Jiraiya’s living standards weren’t all that high. Finding a frog in your shower could put things into perspective.

Above the music, a voice from the other side of the door shouted, “Finally!” The door opened, and Anko was busy looking at her cell phone screen. “About damned time. 30 minutes or less, my ass,” she complained before turning a glare on the pizza guy. She faltered when she realized that Jiraiya was at the door. “You’re not pizza.”

The disappointment in her voice made him laugh. As much as she stared at him in class, the girl seemed to have bigger priorities in life. “No, sorry. You gonna let us in?”

“Uh,” Anko blinked, looking back over her shoulder.

“Yo!” Kakashi slipped around Anko, taking up the rest of the space in the doorway. He held up his right hand, which Jiraiya high-fived before they went through a brief series of motions that ended with a fist bump. “Glad you could make it. Come on in.”

“What?” Anko’s question went unheard as Kakashi led them into the apartment. He turned to his new guests, adding, “I’m Kakashi, by the way. You must be Tsunade and Orochimaru.” His eyes smiled for him. “You probably know some of these guys, but that’s Anko,” he pointed back at the door. “Over there’s Itachi and Kabuto. The big guy’s Kisame; Itachi’s his tutor.” He nodded to the small group gathered on the couch. They were intently pressing buttons on their video game controllers, eyes glued to the screen. “They have class with Tenzo,” he added, clarifying to Jiraiya how he knew them. “Then we have Asuma and Kurenai; we’re from the same hometown.” The couple chattered away in the small kitchen. “And there’s Sasori, Itachi’s roommate. They live just down the hall. That guy’s his… I don’t know, to be honest, but his name’s Deidara.” He looked around the apartment, a confused look on his face. “Tenzo!” he called.

“What?” a voice complained from within one of the rooms. Tenzo closed the door behind him when he reappeared, holding several video game cases. He didn’t hide his surprise at the new additions. “I didn’t know you’d invited anyone else.” He didn’t sound angry, but it was clear that he was somewhat annoyed.

“Maa, don’t worry about it,” Kakashi smiled disarmingly. “Tenzo, you know Orochimaru, right?”

“Yeah,” Tenzo waved awkwardly, his question written on his face. He was also trying not to stare at Orochimaru’s skinny jeans. 

“That’s Tsunade, and this is Jiraiya. You know, the professor I’ve been helping.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Tenzo. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Jiraiya beamed and extended his hand. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. The poor kid had turned a vibrant shade of red. 

Trying to dispel his discomfort, Tenzo mussed with his bangs before shaking Jiraiya’s hand. “Same,” he admitted. 

“What the hell did you do?” Tsunade hissed into Jiraiya’s ear.

“What? Kakashi here’s one of my biggest fans,” Jiraiya boasted.

“Oh, sweet lord.” Tsunade rolled her eyes. She placed a hand on Tenzo’s shoulder, removing him from the situation as she walked away. “Ignore him. It’s better that way.”

Itachi set his controller down in his lap. “Tsunade, Orochimaru, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Neither did we,” Orochimaru assured him, laughter in his tone. Itachi was caught completely off guard by his change in demeanor. He really was different outside of the classroom.

Kabuto leaned around Kisame, adjusting his glasses as he asked, “What are you doing here? Not that you’re unwelcome, of course.”

“Kakashi invited us,” Tsunade clarified, indicating the student and professor talking animatedly by the door.

Kabuto glanced at Tenzo, who threw his arms up in exasperation. “I don’t know anymore.”

Anko walked up behind Tenzo, draping herself over his shoulder. “I’m hungry,” she whined. “Did the pizza guy call yet?”

Tenzo did his best to pull out his phone while Anko was dead weight on him. “No, nothing. It’s only been forty-five minutes. Be patient.”

“What happened to thirty minutes or less?”

“I’m pretty sure they cancelled that promotion because the delivery people were driving recklessly,” Itachi pointed out.

Anko narrowed her eyes. “Why do you have to know everything?” She turned her attention back to her best friend, poking his cheek. “Call them.”

“No, Anko.”

“You suck.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Anko snorted, taking it as a double entendre. Itachi was the first to break, followed by Kisame and, surprisingly, Tsunade. Orochimaru gave her a wince, praying that she would control herself. 

Tenzo blushed again. “Whatever.” He tried to walk away, but Anko’s body weight slowed his progress. “Let me go.”

“But you’re my boo,” she cried.

 

Itachi turned to his left, looking at Orochimaru. “Do you want to play?” he asked, offering him the controller.

“What is it?”

“Mario Party. Kabuto’s in the lead, and I’m tired of losing.”

Orochimaru took the controller and switched places with Itachi, who sat on the floor in front of the couch. Kabuto chuckled, stipulating, “You can’t fail me if I kick your ass.”

“We’ll see about that,” Orochimaru deadpanned.

From the other side of the apartment, Sasori raised his voice. “I don’t have to listen to this!”

“Yeah, you do!” Deidara sapped at an even louder volume. “You’re the one who started it!”

“I didn’t start anything!”

“You said my sculpture sucks!”

“I said you should try using a bullnose instead of a feather-wire for texture!”

Itachi groaned, picking himself up off the floor. He was too annoyed to notice that he’d used Orochimaru’s knee as a hand-hold to lift himself up. He walked over to the bickering pair, speaking in a lowered tone while Deidara continued to yell. An agreement was reached, and the duo stalked out of the apartment, bristling at one another. When they shut the door behind them, Itachi went back to his seat.

“What the hell was that?” Jiraiya asked, joining the larger group.

“My roommate.” Itachi’s tone was apologetic. “They have a love-hate thing going on right now. Nobody gets it. Better to kick them out now than later.”

“I take it you’ll be here for a few hours?” Kakashi laughed.

Itachi looked up at him pleadingly. “If you don’t mind.”

“So they’re like that?” Tsunade asked, trying to understand.

“No one knows what they’re like,” Kisame informed her, grinning over Orochimaru’s head. “It’s better not to ask.”

There was a knock on the door. “I swear to god if it isn’t our pizza…” Anko growled, stalking over to the door.

 

“I still don’t get it,” Anko muttered to Tenzo and Kakashi. They were huddled close together in the kitchen, watching the events in the living room. “I think it makes even less sense now than it did before.”

“You’re not wrong,” Tenzo agreed. “They’re totally different people.”

“I say we divide and conquer.” Kakashi stalled when he saw the confused looks he was given. “Ya know, do some research. Split up, take someone we don’t know that well. So, Tenzo, you need to take Jiraiya because Anko and I are in his class. Anko can take Orochimaru, and that’ll leave me with Tsunade?”

Anko hummed her approval, giving her target a once-over that made Tenzo feel dirty. 

“Try to be subtle,” the brunette pleaded.

“Sure, hun.” She wasn’t listening.

Kakashi set off first, slipping beside Tsunade at the table with the pizza boxes. He took a paper plate and grabbed a piece, making small talk as he did so. “So, you’re a grad professor, too?”

“Yeah, I work with pre-med students,” Tsunade informed him jovially. So far, so good. “Thanks for having us over. I didn’t know you’re so close to Jiraiya.”

Kakashi shrugged. “He’s a cool guy. He’s really helped me with my writing, and he’s fun to be around.”

He wasn’t wrong. She wondered what was with his mask, but she was too polite to come right out and ask him. She looked over at Jiraiya, who was screeching at the television as he mashed the buttons on his controller. When she turned back to Kakashi, her eyes widened as she saw he’d devoured his pizza. What was this kid?! “So, how is it you know Itachi and Kabuto, again?”

“They both have biology with Tenzo. With Orochimaru, actually.”

“I have them both in my class, as well. Is your boyfriend not pre-med?”

Kakashi shook his head. “Environmental science. He’s a real tree hugger.” His eyes lifted in a smile, fondness in his voice.

“And you’re…?”

“Creative writing.”

“Interesting combination.”

“Hey, Tenzo can be off saving the whales, and I’ll be able to sit at home and write. It’s a win-win.” He shrugged. “He’ll get a Nobel, and I’ll get a Pulitzer.”

Tsunade smiled at that. “I like it. It’s a good life plan. Have you been together long?”

“Long enough.”

“I don’t get it. You seem to have your head on your shoulders; what’s got you hanging around Jiraiya? He’s a hot mess on a good day.”

“See that girl over there, with the purple hair? She’s my Jiraiya. I’m used to it.”

“I guess we all have to have one.”

 

Anko waited a moment before following Kakashi, walking past him when he stopped. She approached the couch and sat on the arm beside Orochimaru, who seemed annoyed by her presence but tried not to show it. “So, you’re the guy who teaches my boo’s biology class.”

“I’m sorry?” Orochimaru looked up at her blankly, in need of clarification.

“Tenzo. Flower child.” She gestured in his direction. “‘Course, Itachi and Kabuto, too.”

“I see.”

“You know, that whole poll on Rate My Professor is just golden.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You know, the poll. Last I checked, you’re winning by, like, twenty.”

Orochimaru slipped and allowed himself a mischievous grin in response. Damn, she could see why Itachi was attracted to this guy. When he spoke, his voice had turned low and conspiratory, “Do be a dear and let that slip to Jiraiya, would you? I’d love to see how he reacts to someone other than Tsuna or myself saying it.”

Anko gave a dramatic wink. “You got it.” She thought for a moment, remembering something she’d wanted to know for weeks now. “Wait, you’re roommates, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, on the first day of class, he said he was teaching because his roommate’s suggestion was worse. I have to ask, what was it?”

“Really, he’s so dramatic. I suggested that he take up stripping to earn his part of the rent. He’d make decent money, and I think he would have enjoyed it if he-”

Anko cut him off, howling with laughter and clutching her sides. She nearly fell off the arm of the couch.

 

Tenzo looked over at Anko and sighed, shaking his head. To his surprise, Jiraiya was doing the same. The white-haired man looked over at him and asked, “What’s her deal?”

“I wish I knew,” Tenzo sighed. “She’s always been like this, though. She’s just… Anko.”

“Known her that long?”

“I grew up with her and Kakashi.”

“Ah, I see. He didn’t tell me that part.”

“This is actually our hometown.”

“Really? So why are you living here and not at home? It’d save you a lot of money.”

Tenzo smiled bashfully, not wanting to gain his pity. “Kakashi and I don’t have any family. So, it’s live here, or anywhere else. The building has decent rent.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

The brunette shook his head. “It’s okay. That was a long time ago, for both of us.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

“My parents and sister died in a car accident,” Tenzo informed him, his voice slightly detached, like he was talking about a movie he once saw. “Drunk driver. Kakashi’s mom died a little after he was born from some illness. His dad…” He’d gone too far to go back now. He lowered his voice. “His dad killed himself back when he was a kid. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Jiraiya paled. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. Is that why he…”

“Wears the mask?” Tenzo finished for him. “I think so. It was a pretty big political scandal. The Hatake Debacle?”

“No way, that’s his dad?”

“Yeah. Come to find out he was innocent, about a year too late.” His words spat bitterness.

“I really shouldn’t have pried.”

“It’s a fact of life for us. It’s not something we talk about, but it happened. It’s okay that you asked. Just don’t tell Kakashi I told you? If you need to talk to him about it, say you read about it online or something.”

“Will do.” Jiraiya felt the overwhelming need to change the subject. “So, Kakashi tells me he lent you a copy of my book. I’d love any feedback you have, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t really have any,” Tenzo admitted. “I’m not that far into it, maybe chapter five?”

“If it’s dull or hard to read, I’d like you to tell me.”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s just…” He chewed his bottom lip. “Kakashi’s a little more… bold, I guess, than I am. I blush easily, so I can’t read it in public like he can. When I try to read it at home, he keeps trying to read over my shoulder. ‘What part are you at? Has this happened yet? Oh, what did you think of…?’ It’s hard to read like that.”

Jiraiya chuckled. That sounded just about right. “Well, do me a favor and let me know if you have any comments. When you finish it, just let me know, and I’ll let you read the manuscript for the sequel. Kakashi’s been a big help with that, you know. He’s a lot better at wording than I am,” he admitted. He laughed when he continued, “The little shit tore out an entire chapter. He was right, it needed to go, but I couldn’t believe it.”

“That’s Kakashi for you.” Tenzo smiled softly. “He’s blunt, but he means well.”

“If you ask me, you’re good for him. I think you mellow him out. He’s never this calm in class.”

“And I’m never this exciting. It works for us.”

“Ya know, I like you guys. We should hang out more often.”

“We should.”


End file.
